Missing Emotion
by DATsubasa
Summary: She tried holding herself back from him but little did she realize that she is hurting him at the same time.


Disclaimer: I do not own SE. This fic is created purely for casual entertainment. Strictly not for sale. XP

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Some of you guys may know me as the author of Resonation Echoes =)

I happen to find this fic in my fanfic folder when doing a housekeeping of my documents earlier on. I wrote it two years ago and I cannot believe that I actually forgot about it =/

Sorry if there are grammatical errors and so, hahaa, I am lazy to re-edit it as I am currently busy working on the RE chapters XD

Do enjoy and thanks for reading!

* * *

Written by: DATsubasa

Title: Missing Emotion

Time is passing by mercilessly. Long gone were those days when they were all new to Spatoi's formation and being a part of it. They are going into intense training and through dozens of theory drills every school day after dealing with all the chaos Madness caused which put the matter to a temporary halt. Although the peace is temporary, they cannot afford to waste time relaxing. The number of Death Scythes increased slightly, but it is better than nothing. However, peer pressure and school's society pressure is getting onto his Meister. Not only is she coping hard to remain on her top spot, she is also dealing with her fighting skills as well as his fan girls.

The scythe sees a tremendous change in his Meister. Gone were the days where he is used to hear her nag at every little things she is dissatisfied with, or sending him one of her bone shattering chops with the spine of a hard cover book which magically appeared from nowhere. Soon, puberty hits both of them but it seems that she is the only one in the clique who is not affected by it in any way. Ignoring all the gossips about the scandals which are diffusing into the air and into the students' heads, she will never fail to show her disinterest by sinking herself into the reality wonderland of the books she managed to get her hands on. She used to be a social butterfly when it comes to gatherings but nowadays, in their university studies, her chattering and smiles faded with time. She started to dislike dealing with crowds and it seems that the two of them exchanged places. While he is in the middle of the ball room talking to people, she will sneak onto one of those huge balconies and not forgetting to shut the balcony door behind her. To hear her talking is getting scarce as the time tickled and went into years.

She is a total contrast of her old self. Now she stood in her height of five feet and five inches, the defending silence emitted from her does not cover the charisma she newly emitted upon the time when she stepped into university level with him. He knows that she managed to expose herself into music and sports, and even could play the piano pretty well, but when topics of such interests she newly found are brought up during one of those scarce conversations, she never fails to divert the topic away.

Years go by and, as he observed, his Meister is slowly enclosing herself into a cage. A cage with beautiful things she indulge by herself, shut away from the outside world. Most of the time, other than lessons and missions, she is usually day dreaming. Soul is always the one starting a conversation with her when they are back in their apartment, however, she merely either nodded, or replied with a "Mhmm. I see." Or a "Is that so?" and nothing else. At times he shook her shoulders desperately, trying to make her pour out her troubles or to speak her mind, she only forced out a smile and told him that nothing is wrong. He is getting frustrated. His Meister is becoming more and more distant towards him. He did not know what he had done to cause such changes in her. Even when resonating, he could not feel her emotions. While she will always know when he is angry, sad or delighted, he could not feel her heart at all.

Her lockers never fail to fill with letters from her admirers who are deeply attracted to her charisma, skills, brains, looks and her well developed curves from top to bottom. For some reason, he felt a huge pang of jealously when she read those letters with a very small smile which lingered only until she finished with all the reading. He made a mental note to dig through his Meister's locker for those undesirable documents every day without her noticing and chuck them into the bin. When he is being surrounded by the horde of fan girls, with their multiplying numbers, she did not show any facial expression and merely stalked away from the scene, showing no sign of interest or jealously.

He left her alone after that and continued on with his life. He cannot comprehend any reason for her to behave that way, becoming more and more like an introvert. She is a chameleon, she blended perfectly well with the surroundings, but he can see that all are, but forced. Rather than chucking his fan mails into the bin, he decided to read them in the presence of her, inwardly still hoping that she will show him some reaction, or to tease him like she used to back during those old Spatoi days. But she remained as still as Mona Lisa sitting in her painted canvas. Even Tsubaki does not know what is going on with his Meister. She refuses to tell her anything.

That is the last straw for him.

"Maka, I won't be home for dinner."

"Why?"

"I have got a date."

She stared at him for a while before replying.

"Enjoy yourself."

That feels extremely cold. Her poker face unwavering, plastered across that beautifully sculptured face and she walked back to her room without another word. Looking at her retreating back, he did not feel anger since he is used to the way she behaved now. But somehow, he feels as if he has lost something precious.

_Why don't you attempt to stop me? If you do, I will not go_…

Little did he know that behind the closed door, tears are shed for him silently.

Somehow, news of his date spread across the school corridor like wild fire. Little does he know that his poor Meister has been suffering quietly at the point of time when he became a Death Scythe. He did not know that his fan girls and his admirers have been making things difficult for her. Occasionally when she got home late with unkempt attire, some bruises and from head to toe, literally decorated with plasters and small bandages, smelling of antiseptic, she does not bother telling him what happened. When he starts to ask, all she does is to look at him straight in his eyes, that piercing gaze that will never fail to stop his heartbeat for a few seconds before muttering "Fought with some bitch out there."

"And you told me not to get into trouble?"

She lowered her head and stared at the ground.

"Maka, for god sake you are already twenty three! Can you stop making me worried sick? What is going on with you? Why can't you tell me?"

He was shaking her hard and looking at her with frantic displayed across his face. His Meister remained still like a zombie.

Silence.

He had enough. He spun around and went to the kitchen to cook dinner. She leant against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor. She did not know what to do anymore. She is mentally and emotionally exhausted.

He doesn't want to worry about her anymore because he is drained, but he cannot pull himself back. It is just like a natural instinct. As each day passes by, it becomes like a torture to face his Meister. Soul has stopped smiling. Every time when catching each other's eye, he looked extremely sad.

But he knows that she isn't dead in there.

He got straight home from a solo mission and the time was three in the morning. She was sitting on the couch with the Hi-fi playing light jazz. She took a look at him and went into the kitchen without greeting him. He was annoyed with her reaction. He headed straight into the bathroom thinking why would she bother waiting for him since they had nothing to say. The last time they had a decent conversation was years ago. He got out and smelled food. He quietly went into the kitchen. She was sitting on the chair with a first aid box opened. Apparently, she had cooked dinner for him when he was in the bath. He sat beside her and without a word, she took his arm which had a nasty cut on it, still bleeding despite the fact that he finished bathing, stared at it for a while before gently applying medication and bandaging it up. He was staring at her as she tended to all his wounds with those delicate hands with that feathery gentle touch which he was addicted to.

If the only way he is able to feel her is by having wounds on his body, maybe inflicting physical damage on himself is not a bad idea.

Until one day during school, he turned around a corner by mistake. He heard things that made his blood boil. His first encounter with the hidden drama which is carefully concealed behind his back.

"Soul sempai doesn't want you anymore. What's so good about you?"

"Look, he even goes on a date that time, did he even ask you out?"

"You are nothing while he is a Death Scythe. So what if your results are great?"

"Face the reality man, you bitch."

Then, he heard Maka speaking, "It has been seven years you people are giving me trouble, but I don't see him approaching you people at all."

What comes next is totally unexpected. He heard crashes of several huge objects which seemed to be thrown from a great height along with scuffling of shoes, and a sharp cry of pain. He dashed out from the corner and saw his Meister on the ground, cradling her arm. Broken desks were lying around her. She did not have any expression on her face even though her arm was clearly broken. She was already numbed from the inside.

"Awww why isn't she disfigured yet?"

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ALL DOING?"

"Soul sempai?"

He rushed to his Meister and slowly picked her up in his arms.

"Are you alright? Does it hurt? Talk to me, Maka!"

She took in a long breath.

"My arm, I think it's broken."

Sweat started to break upon her forehead and she was getting paler. He gently cradled her in his arms, she had fell unconscious due to both fatigue and all the mental and emotional strain she was been under.

"See, there she is acting to gain pity…" the female voice stopped abruptly when the angry scythe shot her a threatening look.

"Now I know what the fuck is going on! For the fucking sake for your lives, touch her again, taunt her again, breathe another word of your bitchy comments to her again and I will make sure to disfigure each and every single one of you!"

The crowd that gathered around to watch the entire drama went silent.

"What makes you people think that I will fall for anyone of you?"

A few girls gasped.

Carrying Maka in a bridal style, he started to jog off straight to the Dispensary to get help but stopped to turn around after a few steps to throw his final words to the crowd, "I love this woman, so fuck off!"

After dealing with the broken arm and staying over for a night, Maka left the Dispensary in a cast with Soul walking beside her quietly. He had been thinking about the event that happened to her a while ago. Putting the pieces of the puzzle together, he finally got it, the entire story behind her behaviour. But it is more than that what he thought it supposed to be. Once they reached home, he dragged her to his room and made her sit on his bed while pulling up a chair to sit in front of her, facing her. She felt uneasy but determined not to show any slightest hint of her emotions which are threatening to burst out of her with each temptation that come from him, that which accumulated throughout the years. He gripped onto her shoulders tightly. She continued to gaze back at him with that pair of emerald which showed no expression. Underneath the icy gaze, the surface is on the verge of splitting into two. She held on tightly to her shell, desperately trying to put them together again. The longer Soul's piercing gaze bored at her, the weaker the barrier becomes. She started to shake slightly.

"What is wrong? Why not tell me that all that shit has been happening to you? Why don't you open up to me? Why…" he stopped abruptly. His Meister was looking down at her knees. He grabbed her head and pulled it up to face his.

"Look at me when I am talking!"

Painfully, she pulled her gaze on him.

"Talk to me! Maka! Just, talk!"

Silence.

The scythe was on the verge of killing himself. The endurance of her abrupt changes and her current zombiefied state for years finally came down upon him. He lost it. She felt his death grip on her shoulders tightened and the hands were shaking violently. Panic flushed through her heart but yet, she stubbornly held onto the ceasing protective barrier of hers.

"Maka! What did I do to deserve all these? Why are you so cold towards me? What have I done wrong? What did I miss out? Don't leave me in the dark! TELL ME! PLEASE! TELL ME! JUST TELL ME ALREADY! Can you even hear what am I saying to you? Can you feel my soul at all? Are you even there?"

He was screaming his lungs out, his gaze not moving away from her eyes. He was already half standing, almost in the position of pinning her onto his bed. Yet, for some reason, she wanted so badly to tear her eyes away from him, but she could not. She knew if she continued to look at him, she will break. Looking at Soul's pathetic composure, she wondered if she has done the wrong thing. Despite the dark, with the faint light from the moon, she could see tears falling from his eyes. She was caught off guard with what she saw. Soul is crying shamelessly in front of her.

"Stop torturing me, Maka." His voice cracked.

Her composure and the barrier she had been desperately trying to reinforce through the years finally shattered. Soul was taken aback when his Meister showed him the very first of her long lost emotions right after he said those words. Tears that were held back when she is in front of him finally showed themselves to him. Her eyes widened and started to water and her gaze started to soften. All the frustrations she had been hiding carefully from him poured out from her as she started to scream and sob loudly while clutching onto his shirt, hunched. He gently reached out for her and gently pinned her onto his bed while hugging her tightly at the same time as she continued to cry uncontrollably. He cried along with her.

"You are really stupid, woman." he whispered, cradling her gently, taking note of her injured arm, while Maka continued to cry, "By being cold towards me and imprisoning yourself like that, torturing yourself like that is going to make me feel free?"

Her voice is magic to his ears. How he longed to hear her speak.

"I don't want be a burden to you, you are a Death Scythe now, I have no right to tie you down."

"I don't give a fucking damn, you stupid woman."

After she finally calmed down, he pulled himself up slightly to look at her. The poker face is gone. He slowly reached out a hand to stroke her face gently. All along, she wanted him to be free of her, afraid that she will become a long term burden to him. She loved him, but knew that she had no right to control his life. The pain of losing him overcame her thoughts and she had to tie them down by numbing herself, be it that he really left her one day, she will not lose herself. But she is wrong.

"By doing that to yourself, you are also torturing me. Never do that again, Maka." There was a fierce look in his eyes, and she knew that he meant his words.

"I am your burden, and you are my burden. We belong to each other." He leant forwards slightly, making sure that Maka comprehend what he just said. She nodded.

"You give me that nonsense again and you will get it from me. Mark my words. I want you to swear. No more of that kind of stunt again." He growled.

"Okay, I promise. I am sorry, Soul, I am really sorry. The dumb one is me."

"So. What makes you think that I will fall for those fucking bitches in school?"

She looked away, ashamed of herself not to have faith in him, not to trust him and his feelings. He read her mind and smiled.

"I love you, Maka."

For the first time of those years, she finally smiled. A genuinely sweet and gentle smile. He leant in and kissed her.

"And I always do."


End file.
